


Bipolar

by jay_1618



Series: Gallavich||One Shots [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, Bipolar Ian, Caring Mickey, M/M, Meds, One Shot, Pills, Sad Ian, Toast, Worried Mickey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 09:47:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11205510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jay_1618/pseuds/jay_1618
Summary: One Shot Prompt: Ian hasn't been taking his meds and hopes that Mickey won't find out.





	Bipolar

**Author's Note:**

> Song for One Shot: I Found by Amber Run
> 
> https://youtu.be/DqoVhwMDoK4

Mickey woke up one morning next to his troubled love. Well, Ian's been better recently, taking his meds from what Mickey has seen. With Ian taking his meds, their bedroom game has been great like before. Though recently it's been a bit much. They've been trying new things lately, and for the past few mornings they slept in.   
Mickey now looks at Ian's resting face. How calm it was. His eyes went down to the dark hickeys that decorated Ian's neck. He smirked and kissed Ian's slightly parted lips,  
"Good morning, babe..."

Ian felt Mickey's lips against his, but he didn't kiss back. He kept his eyes closed, for he wasn't feeling it this morning. He shifted away slightly from the arms that held him and pulled the blanket over his head, keeping his eyes closed. Ian was for sure off this morning. He felt... Sadness... He didn't really understand why. He was alright yesterday, and Mickey especially made him feel amazing the night before. All Ian wanted to do this morning was lay in bed for the rest of the day, doing nothing else.

Mickey furrowed his eyebrows, "Babe, what's wrong? Was last night too rough?" He smirked slightly and leaned in a bit to kiss him. When he doesn't get a kiss back, he got out of bed.   
"I'm gonna make some breakfast, okay? Cereal or toast?"

Ian just rolled over, his back facing Mickey. He still had the covers over his head when he mumbles, "Mhm... I don't really care..." His eyes were open now as he felt Mickey's hand brush through his hair. He shakes this gesture of affection off and sighed quietly. He didn't deserve this... Or him... He just wanted to be alone now.

Tight lipped, Mickey pulled on his boxers before heading towards the door, "Toast it is..." He left Ian in his room and went downstairs to the kitchen. He got out two slices of bread and put it in the toaster, standing at the counter now to wait for the toast to pop up.   
Ian seemed off these past few days... Well, mornings...  
"Butter or jelly?!" Mickey called out so he could get the right spread for when the toast came up.

Ian didn't answer. He just laid there facing the wall next to his bed. He stared at the wall like it was the most interesting thing in the world. But he knew he had to answer because Mickey would know that something was up. He would know that Ian wasn't taking his meds.   
"Jelly..." He said in a hushed but audible tone. He lifted the covers a bit to breathe better, but he still covered his face.

"Alri-"   
The sound of toast popping up from the toaster low-key scared Mickey. Maybe it was because he was close to it.

Ian would've laughed at Mickey being scared, but he didn't feel right this morning.

Mickey went to the fridge and got the jelly out and the butter, for him. He then went back to the freshly made toasts. He soon came back to the room with two plates and sat down next to Ian.   
"How bout that? Bed and breakfast." He smirked slightly and looked down at  the hidden Ian, "Come on, this plate won't hold itself no longer." He would've pulled the covers away but he was holding the two plates.

Ian was anything but hungry, "I don't want it..." He said, his voice was muffled from under the covers.

Mickey scoffed, "You're kidding, right?"  
Ian heard the pissy tone in Mickey's voice. He just laid there with his back facing him.   
Mickey sighed when he didn't get a response and set Ian's plate down on the nightstand.   
"Your loss. Probably give it to Yevgeny..." He took a bite out of his toast and thought for a bit, observing Ian, "You alright, Ian? You've been off these past few days..."

Ian didn't know if he was alright. He did know that he didn't want Mickey to find out. He didn't want to take his meds. So he took the covers off from his head and faced Mickey, giving him the biggest smile he could give,  
"Yeah, yeah I'm fine!"

Mickey gave him a doubtful look, "You took your meds yet?" He took another bite of his toast, his eyes averting to the pill bottle that still had its cap screwed on upside down. That meant Ian took them last night.

Ian's smile faded slightly.   
 _"Oh my god... Does he know how long I've been without them???"_  
The expressions that illustrated his face had Mickey raise his eyebrows in concern.   
 _"Shit... Shit! He's onto me..."_  
Ian cleared his throat and replied, "Mhm, yeah!"

Mickey sighed and heard Yevgeny in the other room (Frank's room since he wasn't here. Liam's old crib was put in there.), he gestured his toast to point at Ian, "Take your meds." He then grabbed the toast Ian no longer wanted and went to give attention to his son.

Ian shifted to his side, lifting his head off the pillow slightly. He stared at the bottle of pills then at the door, seeing as Mickey brought Yevgeny downstairs with him. He had to make it look like he took them... But how?  
He didn't get up, he didn't want to get up, he had no motivation to do so. It took all of his energy to simply smile at Mickey.   
Ian sighed and reached over for the bottle of pills, staring down at them in frustration. He took two out, how much he was  _supposed_  to take, and looked across the room. No trash can.   
 _"Damn it... Carl must've taken it to the van outside..."_  
He finally decided to get up, slowly though, and crept to the bathroom with the pills in his hand. He snuck behind the right side of the staircase to the kitchen and peered out to see Mickey with his son at the table. He then went into the bathroom quietly, closing the door carefully. His eyes stared at the sink, he was ready to put them down the drain...

"You don't want the toast either?" Mickey asked in the best baby voice he could muster. He barely knew shit about babies as is. They poop, they pee, they suck on their mother's tits... Sleep... Cry. Yevgeny just raised his eyebrows and looked away, towards the staircase.   
Tight-lipped, Mickey stood with the plate and went to the trash can, "Well, that was a fuckin waste of bread..." He sighed and got the baby food from the fridge. As he closed the door the hum of the refrigerator was silenced, but the sound of water running was heard from upstairs...  
 _"Ian..."_  
Carl soon walked in from the kitchen door. Mickey glanced over at him,   
"Carl, feed Yevgeny real quick, yeah?" He handed him the jar of baby food with the spoon in it and made his way to the staircase.   
"Why can't you do it?"  
He stopped on the first step of the stairs and looked at Carl, "Just fucking do it, for fucks sake!" With that he went upstairs and tried to open the bathroom door. It was locked... He knocked on it,  
"Ian, you in there?"

Ian froze in his place, gripping the edge of the sink tightly with one hand, clutching the pills in the other. The water running in the sink seemed to be the loudest sound compared to the silence on the other end. He had to think fast,  
"I'm taking a piss, Mickey." He still faced the sink. He had to do it now or else Mickey would get suspicious. He held onto the pills tightly. He knew Mickey would be upset with him if he continued to do this.   
 _"Maybe I should take them?... Maybe I shouldn't?..."_  
Ian didn't know what to do. He stepped away from the sink, pressing his back against the wall, and slid down it slowly until he was on the floor. He cradled his knees to his chest, the pills still held tight in his hand.

Mickey was getting more suspicious for the water was still running, "What are you really doing? Come on, open up." He rested his head against the door. He then began to wonder, has Ian really been taking his meds? He didn't want to not trust him. He trusted Ian. He didn't want that trust to fade.

Ian heard Mickey's voice from the other side and stood up. He went back to the sink and had his hand right over the drain with the pills in his hand still. He was so close... But he closed the faucet instead, not dropping the pills like he wanted to. He then turned to face the door, saying, "Mickey..." His voice trailed off.

"Ian? What's going on? Let me in." He tried to open the door again but it was still locked. He bit his lip for he was worried now, "Ian?!"

Ian went closer to the door but didn't unlock it yet. He swallowed a tight lump in his throat, "I... I need to tell you something... Promise me you won't get mad... Please..."

Mickey had a sinking feeling, "Ian... Please don't tell me..."

Ian choked back a small sniffle. He slowly opened the door, unlocking it, to see Mickey on the other side staring at him worriedly. He looked down at the floor, unable to bring himself to give eye contact with him. He knew what Mickey was thinking, nodding to confirm that what he thought was true.

Mickey bit his lips and looked down at Ian's balled fist. He swept his hand down his face, covering his face for a moment before dragging his fingers down to his chin and covered his mouth with his knuckles, still looking at Ian's fist.  
"Are those the pills?" He asked, looking back up at Ian, his hand uncovering his mouth to point at his hand.

Ian nodded his head slowly, still staring at the floor and the pills still tight in his grip. They stood in silence for a moment, the sound of Carl complaining about Yevgeny spitting his food out was heard from downstairs.

Mickey sighed, "How long have you not been taking them?"

Ian refused to look up at him. He held onto the pills in his hand tighter, his palm becoming sweaty and the pills became soft in his hand, "Um... About... A.. Week...." His voice became weak at the end. He finally looked up at Mickey, tears brimming his eyes, "I'm sorry, Mickey..."

Mickey grew weak himself as he saw the tears. He always grew weak when it came to Ian or Mandy. Sometimes Yevgeny.   
"You know you have to take them, Ian. If you stop taking them you can fuck your system up!"

Ian furrowed his eyebrows, "Mickey. I'm  _already_  "fucked up". That's why I have the fucking meds in the first place!"

"But you're gonna fuck up yourself even more by not taking them! Those meds are supposed to help you, Ian!" Mickey didn't realise he was raising his voice.

Ian gripped both of his fists now, "These meds fuck me up!" He shouts, "Don't you get it?! I don't  _feel_  like me when I have them, Mickey!"

He looked up at Ian up and down, not sure of what to say.   
"Fine.. Don't fucking take them then..." He walked off and went to the room to get the pill bottle. He came back and handed it to Ian, "Throw them all down the fuckin drain."

Ian stared at the bottle and Mickey, going back and forth at the two with his eyes. He scoffed, "Is this reverse psychology or some shit?!"

Mickey raised his eyebrows, "I don't know, shit, you tell me. You're the one who doesn't want to take the meds." He shoved the bottle into his chest, "Don't fuckin take the meds. It's your choice, really, Ian." At the moment he thought that he knew that Ian wouldn't listen if he told him that he should take the pills. He didn't want to force him either... But Ian seemed fine when he took them...

"Mickey, don't pull this bullshit with me. First you tell me to take them and now you're telling me to fucking put them down the drain.." Ian gets closer to Mickey, inches away from his face, "Which one is it?" He pushes his chest slightly with his hands, "Make up your mind."

Mickey huffed and looked down, dropping the arm with the bottle in hand down to his side. His other hand massaged his temples. After a few seconds he finally looked back up at Ian,  
"Okay... I'm sorry. Just... Take them. I've made up my damn mind." He glanced at the floor where the pills were dropped. He wasn't in the mood to argue or fight.

Ian's eyes soften and he put his arms to his side, his face was still inches away from Mickey's. He looks down again and breathes,  
"I'm sorry..."

Mickey's eyes glistened slightly, "Yeah... It's fine... Here..." He handed the bottle to Ian again. He felt a tightness in his throat. He cared for Ian, he didn't want to see him like this. They walked over to the sink and Mickey wrapped his arms around Ian's waist from behind, "If you take them I'll try my best to make you feel yourself... Okay? Would that work?"

Ian leaned into Mickey's arms with his back against Mickey's chest. He hums a small "mhm" before turning around in his embrace to face him. Ian wrapped his arms around Mickey's shoulders, looking him in the eyes, saying, "I love you..."

He smiled softly, "I love you too... Imma take care of you... Good times..." He smiled more, "Bad..." He held Ian's lower back closer, "Sickness," Mickey cupped his cheek, "health..." He kissed Ian's lips softly, "All that shit..." He said with a slight chuckle and rested his forehead against Ian's.

Ian bit his lip and leaned into Mickey's touch. He kissed him before pulling away to turn to the sink so he could take his pills.


End file.
